Silver and Gold: The Philosopher's Stone
by Chessmaster10
Summary: He had been raised with the notion that he deserved nothing but the best of the best, and that he was the best; a golden star. However, a fateful meeting with a girl at Madam Malkin's begins to have him question his beliefs about what was right, and what was wrong. Maybe... just maybe he could. Fem! Harry. (On Hiatus until I get a Beta Reader)
1. Prologue: String of Fate

**This is something I wanna try my hand at. So please forgive any mistakes cause I'm not used to writing this type of genre.**

 **I want to get some practice in for writing so I know how to handle my stories better. Shout out to the many writers I idolize on this website! Please leave a review, comment or critique.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. :P**

* * *

"Stick close to me Draco," his mother ushered him forward, holding his hand in her own in a vice-like grip as she lead him through the crowded alleyway of Diagon Alley. "We don't want to be here any longer than we should."

 _'Malfoys do not dwadle,'_ Draco reminded himself as he followed his mother as quickly as he could at his age of 11. _'We are prim, proper, and pristine; the best of the best.'_

Truth be told, no respectable Malfoy would ever be caught in this mess of a commoner's crowd of half-breeds and _muggleborns_. The word brought a bitter taste to his mouth. He wouldn't have needed to even be here if it wasn't truly necessary. The young Malfoy heir had received his attendance letter for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry two-days prior, much to the delight of both his parents Lucius Malfoy and Narcissa Malfoy nee Black.

The blond himself was ecstatic. He had heard all about Hogwarts from his parents who had gone to the very same school; telling him of their many tales of the castle and all the secrets that the castle held within its walls. He had been told of the four houses since he could start to read and talk; Gryffindor for the brave and chivalrous, Hufflepuff for the loyal and hardworking, Ravenclaw for the intelligent and witty, and last but not least, Slytherin for the cunning and ambitious.

His parents had both been in Slytherin house, even their relatives before them had; continuously telling him that it was second to none among the four. They had even told him that the greatest wizard and Dark Lord that the Wizarding World had ever seen had come from the house of the snakes.

As they made their way through the dense alleyway full of wizards and witches alike, his mother pulled to a stop in-front of a shop with decorative robes out for display behind the window's opened curtains. Draco looked up and read the sign "Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occassions" plastered in white on the signboard.

"We're running out of time..." he could hear his mother mutter underneath her breath. "If we continue for Twilfitt and Tatting's we'd be late for sure, and we still have yet to buy the books and his equipment. This will have to do..."

Ah yes. The joys of high society parties and gatherings, Draco though sardonically to himself.

 _'Listening to people talk about useless things. Bah! Malfoy's do not ramble!'_

His mother turned to him and crouched down to meet his eyes.

"Dear, I'll leave you here for a bit; I need to get you your books from Flourish and Blotts and your equipment for your other classes." Narcissa told him in an intuitive manner. "Get yourself your robes, both for classes and special occasions. Do not wander outside of the shop understand?"

"But mother-!" but before he could rant about this not being their regular shopping location, his mother cut him off with a sharp tone.

"That is enough Draco," she told him sharply. "You are going to Hogwarts. You are no longer a child; stop acting like one. A Malfoy is pristine and proper, remember? I understand that this is not to our regular standards but we need to compromise at certain times to make ends meet."

Recognizing that tone of voice, the Malfoy heir nodded his head.

The matriarch of the Malfoy Family smiled before kissing his cheek. "I'll be back soon,"

She ushered him inside and spoke with Madam Malkin before leaving the small store, down the alleyway. Draco grunted from his spot in annoyance as the seamstress took his measurements from the waist, to his knees, and arm length; chatting away and asking him inquiries that she didn't have any right to question him about.

 _'Insolent woman,'_ he though in great irritation. He was greatly relieved when she had finally finished his measurements, and had gone to the back storage room to get his robes. Just as he was contemplating bolting for the door and waiting outside, mother's orders be damned, the ringing of the bell at the door swiftly drawing his attention to the scene.

There was a young boy with messy black hair, wearing awfully baggy clothes, considering that he was rather skinny from what Draco could see. The spectacles on the bridge of his nose looked as if they had been broken numerous times over the course of time. He also took notice that they hid rather startling vivid emerald green eyes behind their blurry lenses.

"Hogwarts I assume?"

The words came out of his mouth before he could even think to speak a single sentence. It drew the attention of the boy in his general direction, staring oddly at him in a curious manner. He inwardly cursed, he wasn't suppose to do these kinds of thing; interacting with these kinds of people judging from the state of his clothing! It just simply wasn't the Malfoy way! What was wrong with him?!

"Yeah..." the boy spoke in a shy manner. "You too?"

To his utter amazement and confusion, Draco found himself smirking and responding in a manner he normally wouldn't have otherwise.

"Naturally," he responded in a snobbish manner. "I wouldn't be here otherwise now, would I?"

It gained a rather sheepish smile from the black-haired boy, as if he had realized that what he had just asked was the most obvious thing in the world.

"So, what house do you think you'll be in?"

' _Better start making connections now,'_ he reluctantly thought to himself. However contrary to his thoughts, Draco's question seemed to have utterly confused his apparent fellow student as he looked at the blond in a confused manner.

"I'm sorry but what do you mean by 'house'?" the black haired boy asked him.

 _'Definitely not pureblood,'_ Draco surmised, _'Either half-blood or muggleborn. Hopefully not the latter...'_

"Hogwarts has four houses that you can get sorted in," the Malfoy heir chose to at least enlighten his fellow student. If he was a half-blood, then at least he could make connections with the pureblood side of his family.

"There's Gryffindor for the brave and chivalrous; a bunch of twits if you ask me. All guts and no brain is what my father says. Then there's the Hufflepuff for the loyal and hardworking. It's where the leftovers are sent to. Trust me you do not want to end up in either house." The blond warned the black-haired boy. It wouldn't do for a Slytherin to have a Hufflepuff, or heaven forbid Gryffindor as a friend!

"After those are the more acceptable houses; Ravenclaw for the intelligent and the witty. And after that is Slytherin for the ambitious and cunning; the best house if I do say so myself." The blond spoke.

The bespectacled boy chuckled nervously. "I'm not so sure..."

"That's alright; Ravenclaw would be your best option though." Draco waved him off in a knowing tone. "You wouldn't fit in in Slytheirn anyway. You're way too meek from what I can see, and what's your lineage again?"

The boy opened his mouth to respond but was cut off as the door swung open with the sound of the bell once more. The Malfoy heir looked away and saw that his mother had entered the shop once more, bags magically charmed to float behind her.

She soon spotted him and smiled. "Do you have your robes Draco?"

In the background, he could see the black-haired boy muffle his laugh behind his hands behind his mother's back. _Why that little...! Laugh at his name would he?!_

Draco shook his head, ignoring the chortling boy. "Not yet mother, Madam Malkin has yet to return with them."

As if on cue, Madam Malkin chose that moment to re-enter the room, a pile of neatly folded robes in her arms, the sight a much welcomed and delighted sight for the Malfoy matriarch.

"Here are your robes dear," the seamstress smiled at him as his mother took out a hand-full of Galleons and Sickles and paid for his clothing. Draco barely managed a strained smile back.

"Come along now Draco," his mother intoned. "We must not loiter about. Time is money. And I'm sure that we wouldn't want to impose any further on such _delightful_ company."

Draco could practically hear the sarcasm dripping of his mother's tongue and couldn't agree more; he never did like gossipers. The seamstress did not seem to notice the sarcastic insult applied and cheerily waved at them as they left her establishment back into the crowded street.

Only as they were headed back to Malfoy Manor after they had purchased his wand from Ollivander's (Hawthorn with Unicorn hairstring for a core, ten inches) did the blond realize something that he had all but forgotten in their rush to make it to his mother's dinner party on time back at the Manor.

 _'I never learned his name,'_

* * *

Harry 'Harriet' Potter looked on in avid fascination as the blond boy/his classmate and his mother left the robes shop and disappeared among the crowd of people in the busy street of Diagon Alley.

 _'Is that what a family is like...?'_ she thought in melancholy.

It was there that the Madam Malkin seemed to have finally noticed her presence and greeted her warmly, Harriet smiling in return. The seamstress lead her to the fitting room where she was measured in the same manner that the blond boy was, moments before her entry into the shop.

The witch was shocked to learn that she was _the_ Harry Potter when she had accidentally upturned the fringe of her bangs when she had wiped her brow, revealing the infamous lightning bolt scar on her forehead; one she tried desperately to conceal.

Madam Malkin was even more shocked to learn that she was not a he, much to Harriet's annoyance. Just because she liked her hair short did not mean she was not a girl! Most had just assumed that since her name had been "Harry" _(while she was grateful to her parents for giving her life, did they have to name her that?!),_ they had assumed that she was a boy, switching around "The-Girl-Who-Lived" and turning it into "The-Boy-Who-Lived". She very much rather liked her gender, thank you very much.

 _Sexists..._

It was a couple of minutes later that Hagrid arrived and picked her up to get her wand at Ollivander's. During that time, Harriet's irritation had died down and had started to befriend the talkative woman after receiving and paying for her robes. The seamstress had taken that time to realize that the issue of her being "The-Girl-Who-Lived" and her parents was a rather sensitive topic for the young girl and had apologized for her lack of tact and had switched to a different topic of discussion.

 _'They never really understand...'_ she thought.

Hagrid suddenly seemed to have remembered something very important (well, less important than what he got in that vault at Gringotts anyway), and had bid her a short goodbye, saying he'd be back shortly. Harriet smiled at her large friend and gave him a small hug, earning her a chuckle and a small hug of her own.

She looked on as Hagrid walked through the crowds of bustling people, still very visible even to her poor eyesight. It was hard to miss him with him being so large afterall. The Potter giggled slightly before pushing the door open and entered Ollivander's establishment.

The last Potter looked around the small shop behind the counter. Sheets of parchments were stacked neatly on one side of the counter, a small quill moving as if by magic (which it probably was), signing away at the documents imprinted on them. There were rows upon rows of shelves extending until the back of the store, it's small hallways dimly lit. Just as she was about to ring the silver bell at the counter, an old man slid on a ladder from one of the rows of shelves; startling her.

He looked at her with a calculating gaze before smiling.

"I've been wondering when I'd be seeing you Miss Potter,"

Harriet looked confused and checked her forehead to see that her trademark scar was still hidden behind her bangs of unruly hair. So how had he know that she was who she was? _God that sounded weird to say..._

The man, Ollivander she presumed, climbed down from his ladder and made his way onto another row of shelves, pulling the contents out from one of them.

"It seemed only yesterday that you're mother and father were in here buying their first wands," he spoke, as if he was reliving a memory that had happened just recently. "You look very much like your father, with the way you cut your hair. But your eyes, they're your mother's no doubt."

Harriet's eyes widened. She never really knew her parents that well, aside from the lies she had been told by her Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon. So it was a joyous feeling to get to know her parents, even if was through the people they knew and not them themselves.

"It seems only yesterday she was in here yourself buying her first wand, you know?" he told her joyfully. "Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of wilow. Nice wand for charm work."

He opened another box which he had pulled out from the drawers before shaking his head and placing it back in, much to her bewilderment.

"Your father, on the other hand, favoured a mahogany wand. Eleven inches." Ollivander told her. "A little more power and excellent for transfiguration. Well, I say your father favoured it- but it's really the wand that chooses the wizard of course."

He looked into another box before nodding slightly, pulling out a wand and setting it on the counter in-front of her.

"Now, let's see if we can find yours shall we?"

A couple of minutes and a few explosions here and there, Harriet left Ollivander's with her new wand.

 _"Eleven inches. Holly with a phoenix feather core, an unusual combination. Nice and supple." Ollivander handed her the wand with much apprehension. "Try it..."_

 _As soon as she held the wand in her hand, a feeling of warmth rushed through her body, giving her the feeling of as if she was in a state of euphoria. The warmth rushed through her fingertips as she felt a gentle breeze caress her face softly._

 _Ollivander clapped his hands and laughed. "Curious... simply curious..."_

 _It was enough to snap the last Potter out of her trance and look questioningly at the wand-maker, wand still held in her hand; as if clinging onto it for dear life._

 _"I'm sorry..." she hesitantly asked. "But... what's curious?"_

 _Ollivander smiled at her in a knowing manner._

 _"I remember every wand I ever sold Ms. Potter." he informed her, surprising her at the information._ All _of them? "It just so happens, that the phoenix who's tail father resides in your wand gave another feather."_

 _Then his features turned darker. "Just. One. Other. It is curious that you are destined for this wand, when it's brother... gave you that scar."_

 _She absent-mindlessly touched her forehead right where her scar would be._

 _"The owner of that wand would go on to do great things," he spoke forebodingly, a chill running down her spine. "Terrible! Yes.. but great."_

After paying for her wand, she saw Hagrid knocking on the glass of the wand-maker's shop, smiling cheerfully at her. Her eyes widened as soon as she saw what was in his hands. A cage containing a beautiful snowy owl that she later christened as Hedwig.

Afterwards, they had gone over to buy her her course books and materials needed as stated in her list of materials for first years. She had taken an interest in the broomsticks at one of the shops but Hagrid had explained to her that those were for a sport called Quidditch and that only second years and above were allowed to play for the House Teams.

Harriet pouted.

Later that night, Hagrid had dropped her off once more at the Dursley's much to his chagrin. Before the giant man left though, he had taken measures and had threatened Vernon and Petunia with his umbrella, telling them to treat her better for the remainder of her stay or they'd be coming arriving at their doorstep faster than a blink of an eye.

It seemed to have worked. The Dursleys were terrified straight.

As she laid down on her bed to rest after her exhilirating day, Hedwig's cage on her nighstand, wand and other materials safely packed in her trunk; Harriet fell into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.

As the experiences she had today wandered through her mind, the lingering thoughts of the blond boy she met at the robe shop were all but forgotten, lost in the memories of today.

* * *

 **Aww. I feel sorry for Draco :'(**

 **But I had to do it. Well anyway, I hope you enjoyed! Leave a comment, review or a critique! They will be appreciated!**

 **Until next time!**

 **\- Sensei**


	2. Hiatus Note

**I'm sorry to all those who reviewed and are following this story but I will be putting this on hiatus for a while at least. I'm in need of a Beta Reader for this story because I'm not content with the way I'm writing as of right now. I'll probably pick this up again at some point but as of right now, I really need to set this aside for now. I'm really sorry.**

 **I'll honestly try to update even without a Beta Reader, but with my schedule it seems very unlikely I would be able to. I'm also very busy writing my own original novel so it takes up a lot of my time. Again my apologies.**

 **Sincerely, Sensei~**


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